Bench
95x3
135x3
185x3
225x3
262.5x10x3
Funny little story, no big confrontation ending so don't set your standards to high.
So I go to the Y, its a couple of towns over from me, its clientele is mainly old men, milfs, and teenage punks. Today was a bench workout so I got into the weightlifting area and threw on some quarters for my first warm up set. After this set I get up and kind of check out the lay of the land, who's in the gym today? any hot girls? That sort of stuff.
There is this kid I see every few times I workout, he always wears a sleeveless basketball jersey. He's a prettyboy, probably 6 foot, maybe 6'1, I think about 20 yo. So about 3 inches taller than I. Probably weighs about 215, pretty decent sized kid, big arms decent sized upper body. Loves his beach muscles, likes to look good when he lifts.
Now compared to me, about 5'9 200lbs, wearing my velcro weightlifting shoes, long ass socks that are raised to just under my knee, yellow Billabong T-shirt, and scruffy ass neckbeard. Polar opposites.
As I start putting up more weight on my warm up sets, this kid starts watching me, he can tell he is no longer the center of attention in the gym.
So he gets off his cable crossovers and hops onto a bench. In this gym there are four benches, he hops onto the one that is directly opposite of mine. So we are essentially facing each other whenever we are not laying onto the bench doing a set. I finish my last warm up set and put on the plates of my working weight. As you can tell by my listed weights I use smaller increments for micro loading. 262.5 is, 2 45's, 10,5,2.5,and finally a 1.25. Basically a pyramid hanging off the bar.
Once I put on the weight that I will be using for the next ten sets I leave to take a piss before I begin my workout. I get into the Locker room and remember why I hate the Y. There are naked dudes walking a less than 1 mph all over the place, it takes me a full 30 seconds to walk across the locker room to reach the urinals. When I finally complete my journey I am forced to use a urinal right next to some dude who has Downes Syndrome and is pissing with his pants all the way down and his ass hanging out.
Anyways I get back to the weight room and the kid has 265 loaded up on the bar, 2.5 lbs. more than me, whoopdeedoo. I get under the bar and blast out my first set of 3 like I was benching the bar, I check the time on the clock because in 70 seconds I need to do my next set.
The kid, not to be outdone, gets under the bar and unracks it. So far so good... than he begins to lower the bar... and then pushes it back up once it gets to about 8 inches above his chest. He does 4 of these, "extensions", and then racks the bar.
I do my second set of 262. I sit up and watch him take off the two tens and put on a 25, 275. I do my third set. I finish it and he is still sitting there prepping himself. He does a set of 4 "reps" with this weight, I'm talking a ROM of about 6 inches. He then watches me do my fourth set( of a real ROM) and realizes that I have done twice the number of sets that he has done with better form making it look easy. I can tell he is a little pissed, he gets under 275 for his 2nd set with that weight.
Unracks the bar and lowers it, and lowers it, and lowers it. He actually touched his chest! Now for the eccentric portion of the lift. Oh wait, the bar didn't even budge of his chest.
I hop of my bench and run over grabbing the bar and spotting him to get it off his chest. He goes "Thanks man", unracks his crap and goes back to the cable crossover.
On my 10th set I ask him to spot me, he says "Let me finish this first". I go to the bench and wait while he does 5 reps that accomplished nothing other than stall him from spotting me. He then spots me on my last spot which I knew I would need absolutely no help on, I blast it out and say thanks.
End of story.